Roots
by Ciliegina
Summary: Sometimes all you want to do is forget the past and move on. But sometimes the past is the only thing that can save you.
1. Charlie

Disclaimer: I do not own _The Mighty Ducks_ series or make a profit off of the use of it's plot or characters.

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"Death is a tragedy ... but only for the living. We who have died go on to other things."  
- Charles de Lint, Into the Green

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The sun's rays were just beginning to peak over the grey horizon casting a shimmer on the freshly fallen snow. The ice that clung to the hibernating trees gleamed in the early morning light and a moist dew hung thinly in the air. A light breeze stirred up with it the top most flurries of snowflakes creating a small whirlwind that danced across the ice of the frozen pond, shining in the yellows of the daybreak. It was a majestic act of nature unseen by most as they slept away the early hours of the winter morning. However, a young man stood alone watching the marvel unfold before him.

It had been a long time since he had looked upon the pond. He had grown up on it, learned many a life lessons, gained a tight knit group of friend, just to abandon it all.

Life had been so simple and easy back then. A kid with normal adolescent problems, nothing too far out of the ordinary. He'd survived girl problems, competition, school stress, and even a cause of intense hazing, but none could compare to the last few years of his life because through it all, he'd known he'd have someone he could count on.

But five years ago to the date, Charlie Conway's life had been flipped upside down on him.

It had been a cold February morning. He had just begun his final semester at the University of Minnesota. He was finishing up his final season on the school's varsity hockey team, and they were contenders for the playoffs. He'd had some successfully dating experiences and a relatively good handle on the future (as much as a college senior can have), and a strong support system in his family and friends.

The memory of that day was the most vivid, strongest; clearest memory Charlie had, and it was the one he most wanted to forget.

He had just finished his 'easy A' Theater Appreciation class with some of his friends when he hung back because his phone began to vibrate. An unfamiliar number flashed on the caller ID. It had been a police detective; there had been an accident.

Charlie shook his head and turned away from the all too familiar pond, in attempt to suppress the one memory that he'd been struggling to stifle for years.

It had been five years. Five years to the date.

It was exactly five years ago that Casey Conway had lost her life.

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Charlie walked away from the place his mother had taught him to skate, had made countless snowmen with him, and even held his high school graduation at. There were simply too many memories, and it hurt too much to think about that day.

He walked past his old apartment complex without even so much as a glance, the fresh snow crunching underneath his feet the lone sound resonating in the area at that early hour. His body switched to autopilot leading him to his destination as his mind began to blank. It was too hard, too painful to be there, let alone think and take anything in. It's why he hadn't come back before. It was his first time back to Minneapolis since he'd moved away. Always afraid of facing the past, the truth, as well as dealing with the pity from those who he had once trusted with his every secret and his life. He was afraid that they would resurface every painful emotion he'd felt when it had happened, and he simply wasn't strong enough to relive that. So every year on that date he had mourned from far away, but this year was different. It was the fifth anniversary of her death, and he knew he had to come back to see her, if only briefly.

As he opened the rusty graveyard gates, a loud creak filled the air and Charlie remembered the unsolved and long forgotten hit and run case that the police had quickly thrown aside when no leads were easily discovered. 'A freak accident, and a guilty exit,' they had told him. Said that they were sorry for his loss but due to budget restraints as well as a long list of other named criminals out on the streets of Minneapolis that they could no longer spare the time or man power to further investigate the case. But Charlie had known that they were barely sympathetic to his loss or newly orphaned situation. He was over eighteen and a nobody, so there were no further efforts that they were required to administer, and they gave him the bare minimum. And at her funeral, as Charlie watched his beloved mother be lowered into the earth, he knew he could no longer call the city his home. So after a complete emotional withdrawal from his friends and emotionlessly pushing his way through college to graduation, Charlie Conway packed up all of his worldly possessions and left without a word to anyone.

Five years later as Charlie stood before a snow covered gravestone, Charlie once again felt alone and a stranger in the cold city. And on that morning of an anniversary of his greatest loss, he fell to the ground and cried.

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Author's Note: I know its grim, but it's been so grey outside that I guess I got inspired. I would love reviews to know what people think of it. Next chapter should be out soon. I promise.

~Ciliegina


	2. Connie

**galindapopular****: **Thanks so much for the review!! And as for the grim-ness, I guess I just have trouble starting off with candy and rainbows. But the end will definitely be more bright

**doggiesrule147****: **Lol, I'm totally not sure what you mean. And as for what I mean for the Charlie and Connie labeling, well you'll just have to continue reading and find out!

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_"I love my past. I love my present. I'm not ashamed of what I've had, and I'm not sad because I have it no longer."_

_Colette (1873 - 1954), The Last of Cheri__, 1926

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The sound of the slammed door ricocheted through the house so that he felt the emotion of the movement in more than just the oak wood in his face. Not that this instance was unusually for their relationship. It seemed that now of days they were always fighting about something. And a good portion of the time, that something wasn't even very substantial; that something ended up being nothing.

The root of the fighting was that she wasn't happy and she knew that he wasn't either. That's why their fights over stupid things like what brand of dog food to give the dog occurred. It was simply one of the many topics they chose to use to cover their, 'Can't you see I'm not happy?' feelings of desperation and regret. And many of these arguments were some superficial thing over their dog. The same dog that always stayed by her side and would try to comfortingly lick her face when he could sense that she was upset. The sweet little beagle that would snuggle up to her when she really needed company.

The beagle that had basically become everything he used to be.

They had been happy for years, been every type of sweethearts that the name was given to; childhood, high school, and college. They had even been able to maintain a successful longer distance relationship when they'd decided to go to different colleges. They'd been loyal and any sour moments in their relationship had been completely overshadowed and encompassed by the numerous joyful ones.

And then the summer after their junior year, the most magical moment that she could have ever even imagined worked itself into reality.

It had been a warm and breezy day that he had made her a picnic by the little pond. The pond where they had met and formed their relationship. The reds and purples of the sunset reflected off of the gently swaying surface of the pond when he requested that she remove the final box from the picnic basket for him. Fishing out a small navy blue velvet box her look of questioning, surprise, and glee turned quickly from the box to him. With a childlike grin that she'd known so well splayed across his face, he simply nodded with permission. Slowly and delicately she opened the box to see a beautiful princess cut ring with a brilliant diamond surrounded by five smaller gleaming amethyst stones in a flower like arrangement laying in the center of the small box. Her gaze quickly turned back to him, tears welling up her eyes. He smiled larger and took her free hand while gazing intently into her hazel eyes. 'Connie Moreau, will you marry me?"

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Connie sat on their bed, legs tucked up to her chest as she held them tight looking at the bands on her left hand ring finger. It had been the perfect proposal, and of course she had accepted the offer without a second thought. He had been all she had ever known, ever, had, ever loved, ever dreamed of. They had set the wedding for the next summer, after their graduation, at a small Catholic church in town. The reception was held next to that same pond, for it meant so much to the both of them.

Everything had fallen so perfectly into place. The proposal, the dress, the wedding, the reception, the honeymoon, the guy that Connie couldn't even fathom anything better. Except for a full attendance of her closest friends and family, for one important seat had stood empty throughout the entire procession. But Connie couldn't dwell on the negative as her life worked its way rapidly towards the positive. He received a job offer around that October copy-editing and writing for a Minneapolis newspaper, and quickly began to excel at the job rapidly earning promotions. It wasn't long for Guy Germaine was a well known newspaper reporter in the area. This allowed for the couple to themselves invest in a larger apartment. The move gave them much more space to 'play' in, escalating the passion and intensity of their relationship. However, as it had been more difficult for Connie to acquire a teaching job after graduation, she often found herself alone with all of that space during the day. Instead of taking less hours at work, Guy made a feeble attempt at providing Connie other company when he presented her with Chien the beagle for her next birthday. And while Chien was able to provide a little company, he did not fill the empty void created from the lack of human interaction.

Within the next year Connie became a second grade teacher at a local city school, filling her day time hours, so Guy starting picking up more hours at the paper. Realizing the strain this was causing on their relationship but also he's love and passion for his job, Connie began to confess her feelings to Chien, the only creature that would be always be her company when she needed it most.

However, Connie hit her breaking point after she misconceived for the second time. Completely distraught and sobbing she tried frantically to reach her husband so that she could communicate her sadness and he could help her work through it. Guy however did not pick up his phone until Connie's fifth attempt when he snapped at her for disturbing him at work and that nothing was so important that it couldn't wait until he got home.

That's when Connie realized that the illusion of the perfect relationship, the perfect family, the perfect life, was the glue holding them together. Sick of being the quiet, good, and tolerant wide, Connie spoke up about her feelings and that's when the fighting started.

'I work to support you!' 'You love you're work more than me! That's why I never see you!' 'You need to get over yourself!' 'What do you report on at 2am? Other women's favorite sex positions?!' ' You're being completely ludicrous and over reacting! Talk to me when you're stupid feminine cycle is over and you're notPMSing!'

Any argument that could be had between them happened. Some night Guy did not come home. Some nights Connie cried. It was evident that they weren't meant to be and that both regretted at least some aspect of their relationship or their marriage.

Connie wiped a single tear from her cheek before grabbing Chien's leash and her coat. She knew Guy would have left for work immediately after the fight and she needed some air.

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Author's Note: Thank you so much those who reviewed!! Please keep them coming, I love to hear feedback and don't mind criticism as long as it's constructive and could help the evolution of my writing and/or the story. Next chapter will have interactions between the two. Thanks for reading and again please review!

~Ciliegina


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